Hope's Fortune
by TheForgetfulOne
Summary: It's never easy losing a loved one, through death or vanishing. Some give up on finding them while others keep hanging on in hope of them coming back. For the ones who remain hopeful, they'll reap the rewards in the end.
1. Nightmare

**As much as I love Resident Evil, I've never been able to play the actual games because I'd end up throwing the controller at the telly in fear. Doesn't mean I don't know what's been going on over the years. So I've decided to make this fanfic about one of my favourite pairings.**

 **If you decide to leave a review, please be polite. I appreciate compliments but I would really like to hear what you liked or disliked about the chapters, it's the only way I'll know what to improve. Feel free to leave suggestions too.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil, everything in it belongs to Shinji Mikami. I only own OCs.**

* * *

File #1 - Nightmare

 _"C-Cold. . . So cold. . ."_

 _The voice was almost a whisper, audible only because it was carried on an echo. Blue eyes surveyed the area._

 _Mounted torches gave the room an ambient glow, the flames casting flickering light and shadows on the brick work. Suits of armour were sparsely scattered around the room, a single pillar stood in the dead centre. A room she recognises, and one she doesn't think she'll ever forget - the colosseum._

 _Why was she here again? This place should have been destroyed long ago. A silver glint caught her eye, on the floor she spotted a large discarded axe, dried green fluid coating one of the curved blades. Ragged breathing drew her attention to the pillar._

 _Slumped against the faded stone was a man. Almost completely exposed save for the ripped shorts clinging to him, half of his face hidden by draping copper locks, pallid skin marred only by the gristly red on his stomach._

 _She remembers._

" _Steve!" The woman rasped with urgency. Running to him and collapsing to her knees when in reach, clasping his shoulders and shaking him, trying to rouse him. He was freezing. He shifted with a heavy exhale, slowly lifting his head to look at her. Light blue met their darker shade, before diverting to the ground._

 _"You said we'd all leave together." He spoke quietly. For a brief moment she was confused, then realised what he meant. Fair hands cupped his face, directing his head so they were on the same eye level._

" _And I meant it." Her tone sincere. The teen looked her in the eyes, a pitiful, sad expression present._

" _Then why did you let him take me away?" He softly asked. Him – Wesker._

" _We didn't know he was here."_

" _Did you even bother to look for me after?" The question almost offended her._

" _Yes. Of course I did!"_

" _Then why…? Why haven't you found me?"_

 _She didn't know what to say. What could she say? She tried to find words to answer him but nothing came. This seemed to upset him._

 _"Why haven't you found me?" His voice growing firmer and louder. Face contorting into one of anger, blue eyes shifting to burning red, a ring of yellow seeping in around his pupils._

 _The woman let go of the boy, moving to ever so carefully back away. Her voice would not work even though she wanted to say something to calm him. Steve lunged at her, pinning her to the ground under his weight and grabbing her throat with both hands._

" _You forgot me, didn't you? You forgot. You forgot!" Repeatedly snarling the phrase as his hold tightened._

 _She struggled against him, clawing and grabbing his wrists to pull his hands away but he was too strong. The tighter he held, the more she panicked, and in turn, the more light-headed she became._

 _Her grip loosened as her vision melted away, the scene turning into indistinct blurs until there was nothing._

* * *

A sharp gasp tore from Claire's throat, sweat lightly coating her forehead. She raised a hand to her neck, she could still feel the force of his hands and the pinch of his nails. A dream. It was just a dream.

"More like a nightmare." She mumbled. Her heart was still racing.

It's been fifteen years since the events of Rockfort Island, she had already escaped one hell only to be thrown into another mere months later. Her second test for survival was also how she met fellow prisoner, Steve Burnside. Their encounter was a little… less from friendly, considering how he started spraying bullets into anything that moved under that spotlight, including her. A few return fires soon quelled the situation and he soon disappeared after introducing himself.

At first, she thought him hot-headed if a little obnoxious with his macho act, but at the time having another person around was better than trying to escape alone. Gradually he had begun to control himself, especially after having to face the fact that his father had turned into a monster, and put him out of his misery.

They had lived and escaped that wretched island, winning a jet out of there after beating Alfred Ashford in his twisted 'game of oblivion'. Only to have their hope dashed when they were forcefully flown to Antarctica.

As if that was not enough, they had to deal with a Tyrant that stowed away in the cargo hold. When they arrived they had to fight through more shit; B.O.W.s, freezing temperatures, that thing that used to be Ashford patriarch, fighting Alfred again and then, Alexia.

Claire sneered at the memory of the woman. She was just as deranged as her brother, but she was the greater of the two evils. Injecting herself with T-Veronica, what she created, making her stronger and deadlier. Just as they had found another way to escape they were ambushed by that blonde's plant-like tentacles. There was only black for a while but when the auburn headed woman awoke she found herself in a grimy dungeon, and Steve was missing.

She wasn't alone for this though, Chris had come in search of her but she would not leave. Not yet. Claire made a promise she intended to keep. They had found him in the colosseum from her dream.

" _It's_ _ **her**_ _fault."_ Her mind hissed. Indeed. It was that bitch's fault that he was gone.

The memory of her companion transforming into a monster, a hulking beast under a wicked queen's control. The sounds of his agonised cries were still fresh to her, as his bones and muscles cracked, shifted and rippled, adapting to fit something stronger.

Having to fight him was hard enough, the thought that she might have to kill him was harder. Despite Alexia's control, she still tried to get through to him, pleading to fight against her orders. Even if it seemed like a lost cause. The woman's stomach dropped when she saw that monstrous weapon embedded in Steve's shoulder, right next to his exposed heart. She screamed in fear for him. He roared in pain, ripping it out and dropping it to his side greatly weakened, barely able to stand before he dropped to his knees.

Quiet tension permeated the room. Ignoring her brother's warnings she approached cautiously, she had to help. Now that he was weak perhaps she had a better chance of reaching the person he once was.

A short-lived moment.

The ground ruptured, Alexia commanding those damned tendrils to attack, coiling around Claire and lifting her aloft as Chris fended off the ones that were blocking his path. One wrapped around her ankle, another around her wrist. Both slowly pulling, threatening to dislocate bone and tear sinew.

There was a rush of steps, an enraged growl and the whoosh of something heavy slicing through air and the appendage that captured her. She was let go and landed harshly on the stone floor, when she looked up she found the beast standing over her, glaring and baring his fangs at the tentacles.

" _I won't… kill you!"_ He saved her. He fought back!

" _And he died for it."_ She lamented.

As punishment for rebellion, he had been impaled. She ran to him as he returned to his normal self, momentarily examining the gaping, bleeding wound. It was bad. Each breath caused a reflexive contraction, forcing more blood to the surface. Still she tried to convince him they would all make it out together despite his certainty that he had no chance.

His last words were what crushed her, a confession of love. For all his cockiness and machismo, she had grown fond of him in this hell. It made her more determined once he died to bring down the last Ashford progeny, she had to pay for what she had done. When it was done and the time had come to leave, they had come back to retrieve him, if they could not bring him back alive then they could at least bring him back to give him a proper funeral. Only to find that he was gone.

They had no time to find him, the Redfield siblings were on a time limit. They had to leave right then or be blown up with the facility. As much as it pained her, they had no choice but to leave. Claire had felt even more miserable on the journey home, and she was thankful that Chris did not interrogate her about what transpired. She wanted time to think, time to collect herself, time to grieve.

With a long sigh she ran a hand down her face. After all this time, he still haunts her. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Red blaring numbers read '04:19 AM'.

A few more hours before she had to get ready for work. Flopping back on to her pillows, Claire closed her eyes and tried to go back to sleep. It would be no good if she arrived tired because of a ghost.

* * *

 **So what did you all think?**

 **Personally, as much as I love describing things I think that is a weakness of mine. Do you agree with that?**


	2. Revenant

**Wow, this took me longer than I ever expected. It was a combination of trying to find a job (which has been super hard to do) and having a bit of trouble with the dialogue. I hope it turned out alright.**

 **To InuSBfan87 and Rosewick267: I'm so glad you enjoyed my use of description, I really do worry sometimes that maybe I tell more than I show.**

 **To Guest and Inupup: It's great to know you look forward to the story. :)**

 **Disclaimer: Resident Evil belongs to Shinji Mikami. I only own my OCs and the plot of this fanfic.**

* * *

File #2: Revenant

"Claire? Are you listening? Earth to Claire!" Said woman snapped back to attention thanks to a cast-covered hand waving in front of her face. Claire locked eyes with the owner, her brother. A soft breeze blew around them and the occasional rush of a car driving by helped bring her back to reality. She had gone on a grocery run after being sent home from work and had bumped into Chris on the way back. He had been given some time off thanks to a broken arm from a recent mission, so he had decided to visit her. Claire asked,

"Sorry, what were you saying?" Chris slightly raised an eyebrow as he looked at her with some concern. They were now walking back to her apartment, arms carrying shopping bags filled with goods.

"Are you okay? You've been spacing out for a while." He queried, to which Claire responded with an apologetic smile. That's the exact reason why she had been sent home.

" _Take the weekend off."_ Her boss said. _"You look exhausted, so just go home and get some rest."_

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired." She answered. The muscled brunette upturned his lips and asked light heartedly.

"Bad dream been keeping you up?"

"You could say that."

His smile was gone and had morphed into a concerned frown, he saw the grimace on his sister's face even if it was for a split second, as well as the faraway look that returned to her eyes from when she had spaced out. If something was bothering Claire he wanted to know, it was his right as a big brother.

"Wanna talk about it?" He offered and was met with an immediate shake of dark red hair.

"No, it's nothing to worry about." Her reply did not sit well with him.

"It's got to be something if it's making you zone out like this." He pressed. A little annoyed Claire reassured,

"It's nothing it was just a nightmare." Inadvertently, the woman began to pick up her pace and the older man did the same. Oh, it was definitely something. Just when they rounded the corner to her apartment, Chris reached out and carefully put his injured hand on her shoulder, making her stop and turn to face him. He gave her a stern look.

"Claire. You know you can talk to me about anything." Her brother said seriously, stubborn brown eyes locking on to indignant blue. A moment of silence occurred before the woman cast her eyes down in resignation before glancing back up, replying,

"Alright, I'll tell you when we get in and put this stuff away." They stepped into the complex without another word.

* * *

The siblings now sat at the glass kitchen table, each nursing a mug of coffee as they talked about the dream Claire had about Steve. She gave her brother a summary of what happened.

"It wasn't just last night. I've been dreaming about him a lot more recently." The auburn haired woman confessed exhaustedly.

"How long has this been going on?" Chris asked before taking a sip of his bitter drink. Claire didn't look away from her reflection in the liquid.

"Nearly a month."

"A month?" Was the incredulous response.

"Not every night, just maybe once or twice a week." Not really a good placation attempt.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Claire shrugged at him, glancing up.

"I felt it was nothing to worry about."

"It is if you're losing sleep over it." The other retorted. "Are you still shook up over that kid?"

"Not as much as back then. It's still hard to think about." The woman answered, staring back down into her reflection. Which was true. Steve's death had hit Claire particularly hard, she was plagued by more nightmares then than now. When asked about who that S.T.A.R.S knife had belonged to, Chris had revealed that it was Wesker's. Fury had fuelled sorrow, which in turn fuelled determination.

After she had her time to grieve, she started doing everything she could to try and track her companion down. Asking her brother to get someone from the BSAA to look into his whereabouts, and turning to her friend Leon for help. Both sources turned up nothing, at least until Leon's mission to South America had been accomplished.

Hope had swelled inside her at finding something of a clue but it deflated when there was barely any information to go on. Wesker never disclosed his whereabouts to Javier, the drug lord himself was dead so he couldn't be questioned, and his daughter knew little to nothing.

Still, she did not give up. She didn't want to. It was easy for the logical side of her to convince her that her searching really was a lost cause, coupled by having to focus on other incidents of bioterrorism that came with her job made her put her endeavour to locate her friend on the backburner for a very long time. Each year that passed by, she looked less and less. But there was that little voice in her head that would keep asking,

 _What if he's still out there somewhere? What if –_

Claire was snapped out of her brooding when Chris asked,

"Are you looking for him still?" Chris got his answer when Claire kept quiet, shoulders hunching a smidgen as she lowered her head in guilt. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Chris sighed in almost exasperation.

"Claire…"

"I know. I know it's been years since then but I…" she gave her brother a forlorn look. "I promised that we'd all leave that place, together. And I couldn't keep it."

His expression softened, he hated seeing his little sister upset.

"Look, it's never easy to lose a friend. I sure as hell know how it feels to let down the people you're supposed to protect." His voice tapered, eyes glazing for moment before steeling at the woman, "But even if losing someone hurts, you have to do your best to move on and honour them – by not letting others die like they did."

"So maybe it's time you stop looking for him."

"I guess you're right..." Tipping her head back she finished the rest of her tepid drink in one gulp. She rose from her seat and started the kettle for another drink. The silence grated on her, a change of topic seemed appropriate.

"So how long until you can go back to work?" Claire asked as she refilled her mug.

"Another few weeks yet. Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?" He teased.

"Of course not. I'm just wondering whether you should be here instead of home, where somebody could help you with your broken arm."

"I'm not incapable Claire, I can look after myself just fine even with a broken arm." Chris scoffed.

"No doubt that you can. I just thought that maybe you'd like to be pampered, I'm sure Jill wouldn't mind doing that." Her response sounded innocent but it held a knowing lilt of teasing. The younger sister smirked at her sibling's reaction; the corners of his mouth twitching up for a moment before shaking his head and throwing a weak glare her way. Cheeks dusted a faint pink.

"You gonna open your mail?" The brunette asked trying to change the subject. The auburn haired woman didn't bother casting a glance at the pile next her.

"I'll open them later, they're just going to be junk and bills."

"What about that big one?" Chris nodded at the largest envelope at the bottom of the pile. "It doesn't look like bills or junk. Did you buy something online?"

"No."

The elder narrowed his eyes at the aforementioned mail, noticing the small bulge in the paper.

"Open it."

"What?"

"There's something in that package. Open it. Now." He ordered again this time a little more harsh. Setting her mug down with an eye roll, Claire fished out the manila envelope. What did her brother would be delivered to her? Some kind of bomb? If it would quell her brother's suspicions she would open it.

She quirked an eyebrow at the package. Barely an address, all it said was her name and her home country, there was not even a return address. Breaking the sealed paper, she took a quick peek inside before emptying the objects into her awaiting right hand.

Inside the envelope was a CD case with a hairline crack running across the middle, which had a label on it with an acronym written in bold letters. 'A.B', it read. She flipped the case over, quickly examining it but found nothing very special about it, then placed it on the counter. There was also a folded letter, yellow stained the ages as a show of age.

Unfolding it, she read the date scrawled at the top left hand corner, her brow furrowed. July 11th, 2003. Why would a package dated ten years ago suddenly be delivered now? She looked back at the envelope, reminding her that it only said 'United States'.

" _Probably got lost with other people's mail."_ With that passing thought she began to read its contents.

' _To Claire,_

 _I don't know if this package will ever reach you but I hope that it will. The disc that I have sent contains information regarding a friend of yours we have been… looking after, to say the least. I'm sorry for making this so short and vague but I can't afford to give details without risk of my superiors intercepting this._

 _You don't know me so I'll understand if you just ignore this, but I implore you, please play the disc. I promise you won't regret it. If you act upon seeing its contents, head south and follow the river of life until you find the red basin._

 _Yours sincerely,_

 _M.'_

Claire did not know what to make of this letter. Of course she was intrigued by it but at the same time wary. Many questions sprung in her mind. Who was this M person? How did they know who she was? What did they mean by "a friend of yours"? She slid the disc over to herself, picking it up to analyse it.

"What did the letter say?" Chris asked as he walked over with his mug of coffee. Claire did not say anything, simply handing him the letter to read for himself while she went off to fetch her laptop. One trip upstairs and she was quickly back in the kitchen already booting up her device, pulling out a chair for herself while opening the plastic case to remove the disc.

"Claire, what did this person mean by they have info on your friend?"

"I don't know but I'm hoping this will give us some answers."

She placed it in the rom holder and waited for a window to pop up with any files. Two video files loaded on to the screen with no discernible titles to them, only labelled 'untitled' and 'untitled 2'. Moving the cursor to the first video, she clicked to start up the recording.

The video was a little grainy, an indication of the older camera used to record it, but it was relatively clear, giving the siblings a near perfect view of some sort of lab. Beakers and syringes littered the scattered tables, some empty, some filled with unknown fluids. Large, cylindrical glass tubes stood at the back where several whitecoats flitted to and fro from, seemingly most interested in the one on the far left. One that contained the naked lower half of a human body hooked up to many tubes. Two who lingered began a conversation.

" _Any change in his condition?"_ Inquired one of them. Another who was jotting notes on a clipboard looked up and responded,

" _Nothing major. Vitals are stable and there's been no increased activity from his brain. I reckon he's going to stay comatose for a while yet."_

" _It seems the wound on his abdomen is completely healed too, nothing but a scar now."_

" _It's amazing what this virus is capable of."_ A brief quietness settled, only for a moment. This was when the camera zoomed in on them. _"… Where did the boss find this kid?"_

" _What? Ah, right, you're still new here. Apparently, our benefactor obtained him from the South Pole of all places."_

" _You mean Antarctica?"_ The new guy asked almost incredulously. _"What in the world was this kid doing over there?"_

" _Don't know, we weren't given all the details. Elliot only said he was infected with the virus and that was the only important thing for us to know."_ The camera moved again, shaking as it was redirected up to the suspended person's face, lingering there.

" _Shouldn't we know a little more than that if we're studying him?"_ The note taker asked.

" _Perhaps, but Elliot won't budge about sharing information unless their assigned positions require it." Responded the other._ No response was given back other than a resigned sigh and some muttering. The camera had panned back to the two employees during the small exchange, following them as they turned their attentions to something on the other side of the room before being placed back on the table, cutting to black.

Everything seemed to slow as she watched the video. Was that real? Did she really just see…? Swallowing in anticipation, she moved the mouse over the timeline bar and dragged it back to the moment when it stopped on the man's face.

Despite the breathing mask partially obscuring his face, Claire recognised him. The scarring on his neck, the earring on his left lobe and the burnt orange hair lightly floating around his head. It was him, it had to be!

"Claire, was that-" Chris started but was quickly cut off.

"It's him…! It's Steve!" She didn't know it but she began to tremble at the revelation.

The second video was like that of a piece of observation-interrogation footage. The camera showed a stark white room from a high corner angle, a grey table sat in the middle was occupied by two people opposite each other. Steve and a scientist. The quality was also grainy but the audio was worse. Most speech came out as garbled noise and difficult to make out thanks to the echoing room.

The older white coat spoke to the young man only to be met with silence, the slightly choppy quality clipping the redhead's movements. Steve slouched on to the table, burying his face into his arms.

The Redfield siblings leaned closer to the computer, straining to listen in on the one-sided conversation. Eventually, the younger male did finally say something, but it was mumbled. When asked, probably to repeat what he had said, he uttered his words again.

"… _go home."_ He repeated a little louder.

The interviewer shook his head,

"… _can't… who… tak… mo—er li- -u?"_

Whatever the interviewer said to the man, it had greatly upset him. He flipped the table off its feet, startling the scientist out of his seat and backing away from the irate youth only to be lunged at off screen. Yells and growls bounced off the walls.

The room door opened. Several men dressed in black, security no doubt, rushed into the room to restrain Steve, kicking and screaming as he was dragged off of the obscured man.

" _Sedate him!"_ Someone barked. Another scientist from outside came in holding something in his hand and jamming it into Steve's neck, his thrashing slowing before he fell limp. The guards were given a hand gesture and they carried him out of the room while others were helping the assaulted man hobble out for treatment. The video showed the now empty room for a few more seconds before ending.

They looked at the date and time stamp in the lower corner of the video. It read '14/03/03'. This was recorded ten years ago. Five years after his supposed death and yet there he was, alive and well. Even if he was held captive.

Claire's heart was racing from the videos, she was frozen as her mind processed everything. Part of her was denying this, it shouldn't be possible. She watched him die.

Yet despite that, despite the fact that the files were a decade and over old she had proof that her friend was not dead.

It sunk in.

Steve was _alive_.

* * *

 **Remember the golden rule of death, everyone. If the body hasn't been found, they're not confirmed dead.**

 **I have no idea how the postal service works regarding outgoing post from one country to another, with a very vague address location and no return address at that even if the recipient's name is included. So if the assumption of 'it just takes ages to sort and then locate is wrong', then I apologise.**

 **I hope you enjoy this chapter though.**


	3. Mission

**I'm back and here's another instalment.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Resident Evil or its characters. I only own my OCs.**

* * *

File #3: Mission

It had been a snap decision. Impulsive, one could say. But how else would someone react in this situation?

Thinking someone you cared about was dead for years only to recently find out that they are alive, and still might be out there. Of course you would want to go find them.

That was Claire's decision just minutes after watching the footage.

Not without some protests from her brother though.

* * *

" _You're not going." Chris sternly said._

" _Chris, you saw the footage. He's alive, I'd recognise him anywhere." Claire answered._

" _This stuff is ten years old, even if it showed that kid alive then, it doesn't mean that he's still alive now." Argued the elder brother. After all his years in fighting bio-terrorism, he had learned to become more wary of many things. "For all you know, this could be a set up."_

" _A set up?" Claire parroted sceptically. "Who would want to set me up? Wesker? Sorry but he's long gone."_

" _Wesker had connections with a lot of people who wanted Umbrella's research. It could easily be have been one of them."_

" _Maybe, but to wait over ten years to get revenge? You have to admit that's kinda farfetched."_

" _You'd be surprised how long someone can hold a grudge. But my decision still stands, you're not going."_

" _Don't treat me like a kid! I'm a grown woman, I can take care of myself. And in case you forgot, I've survived just as many bio-terror attacks as you."_

" _I'm not gonna let you do this!" Just like his temper, Chris's volume was rising._

" _But if he's alive then we could help him!"_

" _I said 'no'! I'm not going to let you run off to God knows where just on the off chance of finding someone who died a long time ago!" He roared._

" _Like_ _ **you**_ _wouldn't have done the same if it was Jill?" Claire barked back. Just like that the tension came to a standstill, no more shouting. Chris's eyes flashed with hurt, backing off as though he had been slapped. Memories of that mission where he and said woman had managed to track down Wesker._

 _Replaying the moment where Jill dragged both herself and the traitor out of that window still caused his heart to skip a beat. Panic, fear and disbelief had surged through him. He had spent months searching for her when nothing could be found at the castle. Scouting high and low in just about any place he could think of._

 _When no trace still could not be found, he began to give up a little bit more each day. Until eventually, he decided that it was time to call it quits and accept that Jill was… she was gone._

 _It was a low blow, and she knew it. With a sigh of realisation, the auburn haired woman slumped her shoulders, and gazed up with an apologetic expression._

" _I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up."_

" _It's alright." There was a pregnant pause. Chris critically eyed his sister, noting her subdued stance while he heavily pondered over something. Exhaling with resignation, he relented,_

" _Fine, I'll let you go find him. First things first, we should send this stuff off to the guys at the lab; run 'em for prints. Let's see if they can find any clues."_

* * *

The investigative team at the BSAA had taken at least two days tops to examine the videos for any hints of a possible whereabouts. It would probably have taken longer had Chris not stressed that this was not only important but linked to any lingering remains of Umbrella. No clues were found in the two pieces of video footage despite the many hours spent nit-picking the tiniest visual details and attempting to enhance the audio.

The letter had been the biggest help in finding a lead. Having those vague directions near the end helped narrow down the possible locations in the world where they should look.

'Head south' to them indicated that the source of the package possibly came from outside of the US but the question was; where? Central America had been considered but several team members argued that it would be wiser to set up a base further away from the mess that was Raccoon City. Much further away. With a readily available source of test subjects. Solidifying the idea of the location were the 'river of life' hint and the label on the CD case.

So here she was, one week later, on a private plane to Brazil, specifically to Manaus. Members of the South American branch of the BSAA were to meet her at the airport so that Claire would meet the team who would be accompanying her on this mission. Though Chris allowed her to go on this mission of hers, he refused to let her go alone.

Part of her wanted to roll her eyes at his worrying but she appreciated it, honestly she would have no idea where to start searching once she got there. Jill chipped in too. Upon hearing the news, she contacted someone she knew who would help her and be at the runway to greet her.

The aeroplane steadily glided down, wheels hitting the concrete and lightly jostling all on board. Once the plane had completely stopped, and the bell for the seatbelts dinged, Claire collected her luggage from the overhead compartment and made her way to the nearest door.

Whirring of wing turbines powering down hummed in her ears as she stepped on to the staircase. The first thing she felt in this new country was the gentle breeze that countered the humid air already seeping into her skin, despite the sun's absence.

Claire was glad she had the forethought of dressing lightly considering where she was going. Attired in a thin-strap red camisole, sleeveless white cotton jacket, shin-length jeans, and a pair of flat sandals.

The sky already dyed a blue so dark it was almost black, pinpricks of white sparsely dotting the expanse. Spotlights illuminating the runway to help employees navigate easily. In the distance, the orange glow of artificial lights already lighting up the roads leading into the nearby city.

Descending down, she scanned the area looking for her appointed companion.

"Hey!"

Seems like he found her. Looking up once her feet touched the ground, she caught sight of someone coming in from her left.

A brunet, brown eyed man approached her. Olive skin, defined jawline, a straight-bridged nose, and lean muscles. He wore a beige sleeveless jacket open over a black vest, army green cargo pants and a pair of black combat boots. Overall, he was quite attractive, sure to catch many women's eyes.

"Redfield, right? I was told to meet you here."

"That's me, name's Claire." She offered her hand out for a handshake.

"I'm Carlos." He firmly grasped her hand and shook it in greeting. His name sort of rang a bell. "So you're related to the famous Chris, huh?"

"He's my brother, you know him?" She was not all too surprised he knew her sibling, his reputation was the stuff of anti-bioterror legend, especially amongst new recruits.

"Heard a lot about him from Jill and met him a couple of times. He's a good guy." Carlos admitted. Glancing at her luggage, he offered, "Need any help with that?"

"No thanks, I've got it." She replied, effortlessly hauling her suitcase and duffel bag into the trunk of the jeep. After buckling in, the man started the ignition, a thrumming rev jumpstarting the vehicle to life. Foot to the pedal, they calmly drove away, exiting the area and emerging onto Avenida Santos Dumont, seamlessly merging with other cars on the stretch of road.

For a couple of minutes the drive was quiet, the only sound being the engine's hum along Route 174. Having enough of the silence, and staring at the car in front's license plate, Claire initiated conversation.

"Where are we headed?"

"The rest of the team are waiting for us in a hotel not too far from here," Carlos explained, "when we get there I'll introduce you and we can get things going."

"Diving headfirst into the work? Sounds like you've got everything ready to go." Claire noted.

"Planning ahead is always good in the long run. Better to be prepared than not, right?"

"Definitely." Claire agreed. Preparation was crucial for a multitude of things but the one thing you cannot prepare for is the unexpected. You never know what could happen at any given time so just because you have a plan does not mean that one could be complacent. You need to be on your toes because anything could throw a spanner in the works.

In a quiet moment, a name popped into her head with realisation.

"Hey, your last name wouldn't be Oliveira, would it?" The man quickly side-glanced at her.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Your name sounded familiar and now I know why," the woman started, "Jill talked a lot about how you helped her out back in Raccoon City. You saved her life during that mess." The man rubbed the back of his neck as a bashful grin fought its way on to his face.

"It was nothing, any decent person would've done the same." He replied humbly. A thin eyebrow was raised at him.

"Saving a complete stranger from becoming zombie chow and then curing them of the T-virus doesn't sound like nothing." She shot back with a smirk. Then it softened. "I actually want to say thank you. If it wasn't for you, Jill probably would never have made it out alive." She thanked sincerely. The older woman was a great friend and like a sister to Claire, it would have been devastating to lose her in that nightmare. More so for Chris.

"Seriously, it was no problem. In that hell, if we wanted to survive we had to stick together and help each other. I can tell you she saved my ass a few times too. And now… here we are."

"What did you do after Raccoon City?" Queried the woman.

"To tell you the truth, I didn't know what I was gonna do. I didn't think anybody would want to hire someone who worked for a company responsible for one of the biggest screw ups in history." Carlos began.

"If that isn't understatement of the century."

"Tell me about it." He chuckled. "Anyway, I came back to Bolivia, had a few odd jobs for a while. Then one day Jill called and offered me a place at the BSAA, been working for them ever since."

"Better than working for Umbrella?"

"Much better. At least these guys don't purposely send you on suicide mission because of their fuck ups." Joked the man as a tell-tale glow in the distance came into view.

A short time later, they had finally reached the city. Driving by buildings dotted by lights in the usual fashion of urban nightlife, men and women sparsely wandering the streets, some alone, some in groups, either returning home or with plans to enjoy what the late hours may hold.

Shutters drawn down on some stores while others showed they were still open with illuminated signs and the couple of people wandering around inside. A couple of the closed business were tagged with spray paint. The place reminded her of the rougher parts of the cities she's passed through during her line of work.

The sight quickly glided by. A few more turns on the road and they arrived at their destination. A small hotel located a little ways away from the city. From the small lamplights that were on, the exterior appeared modest and well put together, looked about six stories high. Parking in an open spot next to a BMW that looked like it got rear-ended at some point, the duo exited and gathered their things from the trunk.

Carlos pushed open the glass door, stepping inside first then holding the door for Claire. The interior wasn't half bad either. Smooth, tiled floor, three black leather sofas placed off-centre in the lobby surrounding a wooden coffee table. Across from the front entrance were floor length windows giving a clear view of a darkened pool softly rippling. The stark white walls restrictedly decorated with large generic photographs of natural landscapes, with the largest being of a rainforest hanging over the hotel clerk's head.

They approached the pale desk, and the dark complexioned receptionist gazed up with a welcoming expression.

"Good evening, welcome to our hotel. Do the two of you have a reservation?" She asked pleasantly with the typical customer service tone, words heavily permeated with a rolling accent.

Carlos answered affirmatively and after a quick check on the computer, the reservation was verified, and a pair of keys were handed over. The rooms were on the third floor so it was not a lot of effort to get up there. Although it would have been quicker if there were any elevators installed. Once reaching the correct floor, Carlos pointed out a door which read '3-02',

"I told the rest of the team to wait for us in here, as soon as we put our stuff away you can meet them." Almost immediately after doing that, they knocked on the door with a tall, tanned, brunet man answered. Curious visage replaced with recognition as he gave an acknowledging smile to Carlos. He opened the door wider and retreated back.

Four people were already seated, one reclining on the bed, two seated on the small couch and one on a stool by the balcony doors. They all looked to the newcomers.

"Everyone, this is Claire Redfield. We'll be assisting her on this mission." Carlos began, gesturing to the woman, he turned to her and pointed out each team member, "This is our team; Julio Alves, Adriana Vega, Alistair Baird, and Marcelo Armando."

"Nice to meet you all." She greeted amicably. Each operative responded in kind, a couple in English and a couple in Portuguese.

"Now let's go over the debriefing." Carlos began, casual calm replaced by authoritative sternness. Gaze hardened. The younger Redfield took a seat on the edge of a bed. "This is a search and rescue mission, the target is Steve Burnside. Originally reported dead after Claire and her brother escaped an Umbrella base in Antarctica. However, evidence has recently come to light that this guy may actually be alive, and being held somewhere in the Amazon in an Umbrella base."

"Umbrella? I thought those guys were taken out years ago?" Marcelo said incredulously, a noticeable accent in his bass voice.

"They were a huge corporation, they had branches in practically every part of the world. Probably had enough cash to set up bases in secret too." Carlos reminded.

"They are like a… like a… ugh," Julio quickly mumbled something foreign under his breath as he snapped his fingers trying to jog his memory for the right word, perking up when he got it, "a boomerang!"

"Yeah, they always seem to keep coming back somehow." Agreed Claire with some humour. Feeling they were getting a little off-topic, the ex-mercenary recalled everyone's attention.

"Umbrella's persistence aside, let's get back to the topic of the mission. As I was saying, Steve may be being held in a base somewhere in the rainforest. The letter Claire received stated to look for the 'red basin'. The guys at the US BSAA branch have managed to find a probable location, but we have to get there by boat."

"You mean, we actually have to travel down the Amazon River?" Queried Adriana.

"Yes, that's the only way. A local guide has been assigned to transport us there. We'll leave first thing tomorrow morning, 7 o' clock. The earlier we get going, the more headway we'll make on the river." He announced, "Make sure you bring everything necessary for the mission; ammo, means of communication, med kits, anything that'll help. Is everyone clear?"

"Yes, sir." Came the chorused response. Once the debriefing was over, everyone went back to their own rooms to prepare for tomorrow.

As Claire changed into some light sleepwear, her mind raced.

This is actually happening. Starting tomorrow, the search for Steve would begin. Already, Claire was antsy about all of this. One step closer to finding her lost companion. That lingering shred of hope grew a little bigger, but still… something in the back of her mind niggled at her. …What was it?

Shaking her head, she put the feeling aside in favour falling into thoughtless slumber.

She'll be needing all her energy tomorrow. Who knows what dangers there will be this time around?

* * *

 **Capcom, why do you forget about so many of your RE characters?**

 **A lot of times I hate describing characters' clothes because fashion is not my expertise.**

 **I tried referencing Google Maps but I'm not exactly skilled with anything relating to directions (on account of my rubbish sense of it), so I apologise if there are any errors with this. I am also sorry if my description of Manaus isn't accurate, I only looked at certain reference images that were along the directions I was looking up so it's not meant to be a description of the city as a whole. Only a small part of it.**

 **Hope you enjoyed reading this chapter, I'll see you in the next one.**


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